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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29384589">Popcorn</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/cytara/pseuds/cytara'>cytara</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>A Song of Ice and Fire &amp; Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Co-workers, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Fix Exchange, Happy Ending, Jealousy, Light Angst, No Twincest, Pining, Smut, Yes-they bang at a theater</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 07:33:37</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,963</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29384589</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/cytara/pseuds/cytara</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Brienne and Jaime, bickering co-workers at a dine-in cinema, struggle to overcome the demands of their work and their feelings.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>46</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>173</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>The Exchange that was Promised: Jaime x Brienne Smut Swap 2021</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Popcorn</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlicienneOfTarth/gifts">AlicienneOfTarth</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I was prompted AU-Modern setting, enemies to lovers / co-workers and “Slow Show” by The National.</p>
<p>I hope you like this fic, AlicienneOfTarth!!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The reclining seat misbehaved despite being brand new. Brienne stood in the dim hallway of the dine-in theater, and the top of her head peered over the sloping wall. Fully reclined, the black leather seat cradled its customer, an older man. He looked comfortable enough as he shoved popcorn into his mouth. Everyone’s eyes were glued to the screen, captivated by the tension filled moment in the movie—a young woman unknowingly walked into a dark room with her killer hidden inside. Brienne had already seen this movie, bits here and there, throughout the week. Horror no longer scared her. Nothing scared her.</p>
<p>Although, this damn seat, on its first day and in the middle of the back row, annoyed her to no end. During the first showing of the day, a customer had reclined the back and lifted the foot rest—quite a lazy way to watch a movie—and the chair refused to move back to its upright position during cleaning. Brienne had tried pressing the button harder, tried unplugging the chair and tried to reason with it by swearing. The seat hated her.</p>
<p>The threat of a yawn tickled her lips, so she straightened her posture, held her hands behind her back and clenched her fists. It was past midnight. This movie was almost done, her shift almost over—her job almost terminated throughout the past week. She had disappointed her managers by introducing an organizer for unions, in order to protect worker’s rights. Brienne had been treated appropriately, but the janitorial staff? Their bosses underpaid them and never paid overtime. Janitors worked after everyone left and came in seven days a week with no time off. Worst of all, their bosses denied mistreating the staff until the union joined the conversation. Brienne couldn’t do <i>nothing</i> when she discovered injustice—her heart wouldn’t allow it.</p>
<p>Minimum wage was rough but so was finding work in the current economy, especially while attending university. Brienne needed to work evenings.</p>
<p>She walked out of the theater and into a hallway filled with buttered popcorn air. If she worked the front, the buttery smell latched onto her clothes. But, due to the rearranging of janitorial staff, she now served food and hosted guests during the show—and cleaned. Every co-worker hated her for ruining their routines and responsibilities, but no one hated her more than Jaime Lannister.</p>
<p>He stood outside the kitchen, lazy as usual, talking with two new hires. Hyle and Pia listened to Jaime exaggerating his favorite story: that time when a boyfriend proposed to a girlfriend midway through a movie, she declined, he became belligerent and customers doused him with soda and popcorn to kick him out. Pia, a pretty woman, giggled and covered her mouth. Jaime smirked down at her. Brienne forced herself to look away and walked to the cash register inside the kitchen.</p>
<p>Chefs stretched their necks while she gathered bills for the customers in her theater.</p>
<p>“Whatcha doing?” Hyle asked, appearing next to her like a popped corn kernel.</p>
<p>“Bills. We give guests the check thirty minutes before the end of the movie.” Brienne looked at Hyle, and Pia now stood beside him, watching the point of sale screen intently. Beyond their shoulders, Brienne caught Jaime’s stare in their direction. His eyes met hers, and his amused smirk disappeared—replaced by an expression she could only describe as concentrated. Despite standing far away, his eyes captured her—his entire presence had that power. He had the face and body to star in movies, not clean them. Unbiddenly, he starred in enough of Brienne’s dreams and fantasies. She hated herself for ogling, like every other woman that looked at him, but hatred towards him came easily whenever he opened his mouth. </p>
<p>Hyle whispered to her, “Did he steal that Porsche? Or rent?”</p>
<p>Brienne averted her eyes to Hyle and Pia. Jaime came from an incredibly rich family, although like movies, looks were not always accurate. She knew, however, the Porsche <i>was</i> his car. “Who knows,” Brienne said, voice low as she finished printing bills. </p>
<p>“I heard he has this job because…” Hyle paused, “it’s probation for vandalizing the Seven statues last year.”</p>
<p>“That was him?” Pia asked.</p>
<p>“Yep.” Hyle crossed his arms and leaned closer. “Found drugs and a gun on him, too. And he got off easy because his dad rescued him. Now probation requires he works to serve others, and I hear his daddy secretly owns this cinema.”</p>
<p>Nothing Hyle said was correct. Brienne forced a small smile. She only knew the truth because one of her best friends knew Jaime’s brother. Jaime wasn’t responsible for vandalizing the Seven statues, although tomatoes and silly string sounded like his medium of choice. He had been arrested, investigated and let go without charges. His real reason for working minimum wage was far more depressing.</p>
<p>Still, Brienne couldn’t bring herself to correct rumors. She walked away, bills in hand, and felt relief when Jaime wasn’t in the main hallway.</p>
<p>In the dark theater, she crouched and delivered each bill to the appropriate seats. Her feet crunched popcorn she’d later have to vacuum. On her way out, the older man from the stubborn seat tapped her shoulder near the opening of the corridor.</p>
<p>Brienne faced him, fake smile waiting, but her efforts failed. This man’s scowl was clear, even in the darkness. He complained about the broken seat and how it affected his back.</p>
<p>“You need to give me a refund,” he said.</p>
<p>No, Brienne needed to gather bills and charge them or else she’d be behind. “Sir, I apologize for the frustrating seat and—”</p>
<p>“I should send you my chiropractor bill, too!”</p>
<p>A singular popcorn flew from behind Brienne’s shoulder and past the man’s face, nearly missing him. She froze. Another popcorn buzzed over their heads. A small tap hit her shoulder, and when she looked behind, it was no surprise she saw Jaime’s light curls hovering above the corridor wall.</p>
<p>He poked his head out, popcorn ammunition ready in his right hand, and smiled wider when Brienne glared harsher. Jaime threw the popcorn, and in slow motion, the popcorn flew through the air and collided with the customer’s forehead.</p>
<p>She braced for the worst. The man narrowed his eyes so tightly he couldn’t have seen through them. He scowled at Brienne, not Jaime, but it wouldn’t have mattered. Jaime got away with everything because he was rich—in a way—and like everyone else, he hated her guts.    </p>
<p>——-</p>
<p>Jaime hid behind a corner in the main hallway. His heart raced while he waited for Brienne to storm out of the theater. Oh, it was worth it. No one’s frustration pleased him more than hers. Bills clutched to her chest, she stomped back into the kitchen. Jaime would have loved to see how red her cheeks were, but the threat of getting punched in the face held him back.</p>
<p>“Hey,” a co-worker said, “help me clean thirteen.”</p>
<p>So he did. Jaime became a ghost-buster with a vacuum strapped to his back and sucked out an obscene amount of popcorn, trash and slimy gunk around seats—likely ghosts as well.</p>
<p>By the time he was done, their manager confronted Jaime for not helping Brienne with receipts—but it wasn’t <i>his</i> fault Brienne was behind, was it?</p>
<p>“The customer asked for a refund because it won’t sit upright. Fix it before you leave,” the manager said.</p>
<p>Jaime nodded as he took off the vacuum. If he was right about the time, and he always was, the horror film had finished rolling credits a minute or two ago.</p>
<p>He first checked the breakroom, next to the kitchen. There Brienne stood, back towards him, near her locker and purse. She was so tall, no one could have missed her. Images of her shy blush rushed through his mind. Jaime crept closer, smirking again for the first time in twenty minutes. Voices in the back of his head wanted him to touch her shoulder, but he instead peeked around her broad frame and caught her swallowing a small pill with a swig of punch.</p>
<p>“Did you pay for that punch?” he asked.</p>
<p>She startled, cheeks nearly saturating as red as her drink. The punch stained her lips, so full, so distracting and now they frowned directly at him. </p>
<p>A packet fell onto the floor. They both stooped to pick it up—birth control pills. </p>
<p>Either the intrusiveness or the brush of their fingers against each other made Jaime’s throat tighten. “Hot date?”</p>
<p>“Fuck off.”</p>
<p>“Well, I mean, isn’t that the point?” Jaime leaned his hand against the lockers, broadening his space.</p>
<p>No longer pale or pink, Brienne’s face burned red while she shoved her medicine back into her purse. “There are many reasons why women take birth control pills.”</p>
<p>“Oh, come on, I know your answer. How could any of us get a hot date when we’re working past midnight?”</p>
<p>“Speaking from your limited personal experience?”</p>
<p>Jaime squinted. Sure, he hadn’t dated many women, despite being in his mid twenties. Why did it matter? His hand did the job just fine. He didn’t need anything or <i>anyone</i> to please him. What <i>did</i> please him was annoying her.</p>
<p>“You’re supposed to help me before you leave,” she said, filling the sudden void of their conversation.</p>
<p>“Help you find a date?”</p>
<p>She intensified her glare. “I almost got written up because of you. Do you <i>have</i> to throw popcorn at customers?”</p>
<p>Jaime lifted his hand off the locker and shrugged. “Call it bad aim. I was targeting you, not him.” He lied.</p>
<p>“Well, stop practicing unless you want to test out <i>my</i> aim.”</p>
<p>“Your aim can’t be that good if you haven’t fixed that seat.”</p>
<p>“Oh, so you <i>do</i> know what you need to help me with. I tried all day to fix it.”</p>
<p>He glanced at her arms crossed over her chest. “Those long fingers of yours must be sore. Do you need a massage?”</p>
<p>“Punching something sounds more relieving.”</p>
<p>Jaime smirked. She’d never hit him. Although, they had been treading the fine line of hating each other since he joined the cinema team a year prior. He knew everyone hated him for false rumors. Driving a Porsche didn’t help, but he certainly couldn’t drive a beater. Despite his great looks, personality and name, he was an outcast. Brienne, with her face, height and dry, honorable character was an outcast, too. Outcasts were supposed to find comfort in one another. With her uptight glares, she rejected him before he even tried to befriend her. It was clear she hated him more than any other co-worker, and she just wanted to work alone and cared little for others. But once she brought in the union, Jaime changed his mind about her. She had surprised him, somewhat. He appreciated her far more than he originally thought. She had a beautiful heart and courage to sacrifice her own reputation for the sake of others—something he lacked. And yet, he knew she believed in the gossip everyone else said about him.</p>
<p>Brienne slammed her locker closed and walked out of the break room. Jaime followed. He considered running to the projection booth to hook up music during their cleanup, but when he entered the theater, Hyle ruined Jaime’s plan. The new recruit looked like day-old fried chicken.</p>
<p>Jaime plopped himself on the stubborn, extended seat in the back row while Brienne helped fasten the vacuum backpack onto Hyle. She motioned how to lean and reach underneath the seats with the vacuum. Just the sight of her bending over forced Jaime to look away. </p>
<p>Ceiling lights gave the theater a dusk-like glow. Red lights glowed along the stairs, and the new seats made him think he stood in an entirely different theater. LEDs radiated blue underneath the black seats, still fresh of leather scent. Jaime nestled further into his seat, closing his eyes as he leaned back, practically parallel to the ground.</p>
<p>When he opened his eyes, he caught Brienne staring at him with disgust.</p>
<p>“I’m listening to the seat, trying to figure out why it’s angry,” Jaime explained.</p>
<p>Not impressed, Brienne abandoned Hyle and faced Jaime from three rows lower. “I know exactly why that seat is angry right now. You’re on it.”</p>
<p>“No,” Jaime said, closing his eyes. “It’s telling me… your problem is user error.”  </p>
<p>—- </p>
<p>Brienne glanced over at Jaime while she cleaned. He did nothing but nap in the broken seat or throw popcorn at her when she wasn’t looking. She would have marched over after helping Hyle vacuum, but she needed to teach him how to clean seats. There was no point guilting Jaime into work. Over the past six months, she had improved her ability to ignore him.</p>
<p>With the theater quiet, Hyle asked a series of cliche questions.</p>
<p>“Is someone always watching up there?”</p>
<p>Brienne finished spraying a chair in the front row and looked at the projection booth. “No. They just set up the digital file. They leave after the last movie is started.”</p>
<p>Hyle nodded and wiped where Brienne had sprayed disinfectant. A two-year-old could have done a better job. Part of her wanted to correct his poor technique, but she didn’t want to get off on the wrong foot with anyone else she worked with. </p>
<p>The pair of them worked down the row. Brienne sprayed. Hyle wiped.</p>
<p>“What about those cameras? I could never see <i>you</i> doing it, but do you ever see…” Hyle smirked and lowered his chin, “you know.”</p>
<p>Brienne stopped mid-spray to look at Hyle’s grin. His implication made her more angry than embarrassed. </p>
<p>From the top row, Jaime chimed in. “You seem very <i>concerned</i> about people watching you, Kyle.”</p>
<p>“Hyle. I have nothing to hide.” Hyle straightened his back. “I’m just wondering—”</p>
<p>“Those cameras up there are for finding illegal filming during the movie,” Jaime said, failing to hide his scowl. “IR cameras are only on during the showing.”</p>
<p>“I guess the owner of this place is cheap,” said Hyle.</p>
<p>Jaime narrowed his eyes. “Gossiping is cheaper.”</p>
<p>Brienne glanced between them, ready to move onto the next row. Jaime was horrible at making new friends, although Hyle’s words meant to sting.</p>
<p>Hyle followed Brienne to the next row and said, “Getting any closer to figuring out your problem over there?”</p>
<p>“Almost,” Jaime said, tilting his head to the side. “Are you any closer to figuring out yours?”</p>
<p>“Cleaning?” Hyle let out a chuckle with a hint of anxiety. “Not a problem since it’s a woman’s job. Easy.”</p>
<p>Brienne clenched her jaw and the spray bottle.</p>
<p>“No, green boy,” Jaime said, scowling, “your fear of being watched. Be careful. It’s not like I have connections or anything.”</p>
<p>“Sounds like a criminal threat,” Hyle said.</p>
<p>Jaime glanced at Brienne quickly before he said, “It is. Don’t be a dirtbag.”</p>
<p>Brienne ignored both of them, spraying the second row seats. Jaime’s behavior confused her. Apparently, he wanted to be known as a criminal on probation and a spoiled son. The truth was that his father disowned him the prior year. She had learned Jaime’s father changed the financial trust account, and the stipulation required Jaime to work at a minimum wage job, likely for humiliation, punishment and who knew what else. He was poor if he didn’t work. And yet, he played into the ruse that he was a criminal and a rich daddy’s boy.</p>
<p>She just wanted to go home, take a shower, have a glass of wine and relax. But as she worked closer towards Jaime, her heart and chest rejected the urge to yawn. She wouldn’t fall asleep easily, that much she knew. Strangely, she felt more comfortable with Jaime being a lazy piece of shit than being alone with Hyle.</p>
<p>—— </p>
<p>Hyle ruined Jaime’s mood. He didn’t like the way he looked at Brienne. He didn’t like the way Brienne angled her body farther away from Hyle whenever he followed her. How could Jaime fix a seat when he needed to keep an eye on Hyle? He was as useful as a city pigeon.</p>
<p>The three of them grumbled out of the theater once they cleaned it. They gathered their things and met the manager at the entrance. Jaime’s Porsche, his safe haven away from these dumpster fires, glittered under the moonlight outside the glass doors.</p>
<p>“How’s the seat?” the manager asked.</p>
<p>Jaime quickly said, “Fixed.”</p>
<p>The manager’s eyes locked onto Brienne’s.</p>
<p>“I... don’t know,” Brienne said.</p>
<p>“Still broken,” Hyle said, soon smirking.</p>
<p>Jaime blinked before he gave Hyle a death glare. Brienne closed her eyes, clenching her jaw.</p>
<p>“Nice try, you two. Both of you stay to fix it.” The manager shuffled in their pocket for a key. “Lock up when you’re done. Don’t burn the place.”</p>
<p>Jaime wished he knew witchcraft when he watched Hyle walk away with a grin.</p>
<p>Brienne stomped back to the theater, and at the entrance, she shouted, “If you don’t help me fix this, I’m going to drag you over here by your neck!”</p>
<p>Reluctantly, Jaime walked closer to the theater. “You act like the seat is <i>my</i> fault.”</p>
<p>She waited halfway through the corridor inside. “It is.”</p>
<p>“No,” Jaime said, sounding far more calm than how he felt. “Hyle spoiled it, not me.”</p>
<p>“You could have been helping me earlier, now we’re both stuck here late.”</p>
<p>“I remember someone telling me to fuck off.” Knowing no one was around to hear them relieved him.</p>
<p>Brienne turned away, walking further into the theater. She grumbled, no longer holding back her true feelings towards him. It was clear, even more so in isolation, they were the least compatible co-workers ever. Her frustration fueled more of his own.</p>
<p>While she yanked at the seat, Jaime stood beside her, watching. Brienne tugged, pushed and dragged the chair all by herself until she pulled the seat forward. Something about her grunts made him squeeze his fists closed and cross his arms.</p>
<p>“I hate this,” she growled. “I hate everything.” She bent over the side of the seat to look at the back as best as she could. </p>
<p>All Jaime could see were her long legs in tight jeans... “Should I call police to report a murder ahead of time?” he said, glaring towards the blank screen of the theater.</p>
<p>“Can’t you do <i>anything</i> to help?”</p>
<p>Now Jaime grumbled. He approached the opposite side of the chair and reached behind, unintentionally brushing his hand against hers. They both jerked their hands back. </p>
<p>“Turn it off,” Jaime said.</p>
<p>“I already tried that.”</p>
<p>“Try it again.”</p>
<p>She did. It didn’t work.</p>
<p>They worked for another thirty minutes—arguing, cursing, yelling—nothing worked.</p>
<p>Jaime gave up first. He had unintentionally touched her hands enough times to make his skin burn. He was sick and tired of seeing her bent over and lips caught between her teeth. Sitting in the next seat, Jaime said, “You don’t think janitors could figure this out?”</p>
<p>Brienne stopped mid-grunt and seethed like a thunderstorm. “If you’re so dissatisfied with <i>my</i> choices, why don’t you find another job somewhere else? This is all your fault.”</p>
<p>That was a line he refused to let her cross. “How in the—”</p>
<p>“You do nothing all night.”</p>
<p>Jaime stood. “You’re watching me enough to think I do <i>nothing</i>?”</p>
<p>“You talked non-stop with Hyle and Pia.”</p>
<p>“It’s called trying to make friends, Brienne. You should try it.”</p>
<p>“Throw popcorn, get me in trouble, refused to clean—”</p>
<p>“Oh, and you’re so perfect, lying to the manager. And I know you gossip like everyone else.”</p>
<p>She stood, closing her eyes. “I’m done.”</p>
<p>“Me, too.”</p>
<p>“We need to fix this chair.”</p>
<p>She had no idea what started their argument, did she? “No, we need to call the manufacturer tomorrow or someone—”</p>
<p>“No, Jaime,” Brienne said, her face an expression of pure fear. Eyebrows furrowed and eyes nearly drowning, she said, “After what I’ve done, I’ll lose my job over this.” Looking away, and quieter, she said, “And you won’t.”</p>
<p>Jaime followed her eyes, looking at the empty screen. No one was there to hear them. “You’re wrong.”</p>
<p>“Wrong everyone hates me? Everyone blames the union on me.”</p>
<p>“Yes,” Jaime said, “you’re wrong, not everyone thinks you’re horrible. I’ve heard some say you’re very courageous and thoughtful—”</p>
<p>“Who?”</p>
<p>“Well...” Jaime swallowed. “Me.” </p>
<p>She laughed and shook her head. “Says the guy who drives a Porsche.”</p>
<p>“Ah yes,” he frowned, “the guy who drives a Porsche, works for his father and is required to do this for probation can’t possibly have a heart—”</p>
<p>“I know all of that is bullshit.”</p>
<p>His heart fell through the floor. She knew those rumors were false, all this time? His hands sweat and his heart hammered in his chest. “What?”</p>
<p>“You work here for trust money. Even if you do get fired, you can easily get a job somewhere else. Or sell your car.”</p>
<p>“Why haven’t you told anyone?”</p>
<p>“Why haven’t you?” She looked at him, eyes firm.</p>
<p>Jaime felt weak under her gaze. Her honor ran deeper than he thought, and for once, he knew he had someone protecting him. He couldn’t bear the shame of being disowned by his family. The agony of a lie was more tolerable than the painful truth. </p>
<p>Quieter, he asked, “If you know the rumors aren’t true, then why do you hate me?”</p>
<p>“I don—And what have you done to deserve to be liked?” </p>
<p>Jaime half-smiled. “Good point.”</p>
<p>—— </p>
<p>She was about to lose everything. She wasn’t going to fix the seat in time—she was going to lose her job because any misstep gave management an easy excuse to let her go. She was already terrified, already losing sleep over this ridiculous problem. Her heart raced. Was it the thought of losing her job... or the realization Jaime—Jaime Lannister—actually <i>appreciated</i> and <i>admired</i> that Brienne brought in the union and organizers?</p>
<p>As their misconceptions peeled away, her anxiety grew, spreading throughout her tense neck, strained arms and tight legs. </p>
<p>Something, somehow, changed. The tension between them reminded her of the air just before rainfall. Jaime’s smile bothered her more than ever because he possibly <i>meant</i> it.</p>
<p>She closed her eyes, inhaling deep breaths and exhaling through pursed lips.</p>
<p>“What are you doing?” he asked, sounding annoyed.</p>
<p>“Calming down.”</p>
<p>He let out a single huff. “From what, a seat?”</p>
<p>“No, being here. I should be in bed by now.” </p>
<p>When she looked at him, she caught him staring at her. Standing within arms reach, his eyes danced between hers. </p>
<p>His throat bobbed. “You’re tired?”</p>
<p>She had never been more alert in her entire life. “Yes,” she choked, unable to handle the weight of his presence. Brienne faced the chair—the damn thing was less complicated of a problem than understanding her feelings about the man next to her. She closed her eyes, hoping she’d think of anything except him.</p>
<p>“Maybe this will help,” she heard him say. Sharp stubble brushed the side of her face as soft lips quickly pecked her cheek.</p>
<p>Brienne snapped her eyes open to face him. He had to have been joking—his peck was a joke.  “What did you do that for?”</p>
<p>Jaime swallowed, throat tight again while he resembled a deer in headlights. “Did it work?”</p>
<p>She froze. “No.”</p>
<p>“Liar.”</p>
<p>As he leaned forward, she closed her eyes. This time, he kissed her on her lips—gentle yet brief.</p>
<p>He couldn’t have made the same mistake twice. </p>
<p>—— </p>
<p>Her eyes widened when he pulled back one second later. Oh, shit. He misread her. He overdid it. He was a creep, a dirtbag, a harasser—he made a mistake—two mistakes.</p>
<p>“I’m—” his serious tone mismatched his wild heart, “I’m sorry—I thought you—”</p>
<p>She reached for his face and pulled him into another kiss. Her soft lips caressed his, the faint taste of punch on the edge of her tongue. They tasted greater than he imagined.</p>
<p>He had gone months thinking she hated him, but her kiss proved otherwise. Jaime leaned closer, hands cupping her heated cheeks. Their noses brushed together, lips locked and arms tangled. She broke the kiss first, her touch quivering. He opened his eyes, connecting them with hers. Like breathless magnets, they drifted closer, forehead to forehead.</p>
<p>His hands tugged her waist while she dove for his neck. Not a word interrupted. The sounds of her lips and quiet moans against his skin filled his ears. Fingers clenched in the fabric of her button-up cinema shirt, Jaime lost his breath when she unbuttoned his shirt. Two buttons in and he turned impatient, helping her. </p>
<p>Where this was going, he wasn’t sure. He didn’t care. He followed her lead.</p>
<p>—— </p>
<p>She should have stopped, would have stopped, but she followed his lead. The way he looked at her—pure desire so focused on her that her jeans fit tighter. Her heart skipped a beat at the sight of the plain white t-shirt underneath his uniform, and her heart nearly stopped when his fingers unfastened the button closest to her neck.</p>
<p>Brienne stumbled back—surely he wasn’t interested in <i>seeing</i> her. She pivoted, only to make it one step away before he grabbed her wrist.</p>
<p>He asked, “Where are you going?”</p>
<p>“The lights...”</p>
<p>“No, leave them on.” His gruff voice made her weak. “Unless—”</p>
<p>She turned, tackled and silenced him. Her body, lips and tongue pinned him onto the cursed seat. His grunts and scent surrounded her, mesmerized her, captivated her.</p>
<p>Unlike their months of misunderstanding each other, they fit together well while she straddled his lap. She reached to loosen her belt when his fingers could only stretch so far underneath her jeans. They both moaned when his warm hands snuck under her panties, kissing the back of her thighs with the tips of his fingers. She buckled forward, weight heavy on him—worried he’d wince at the size of her—but he moaned instead. He stunned her, kissing her quiet until his fingers found wetness between her thighs. Both of them moaned into each other.</p>
<p>——</p>
<p>The excitement of having Brienne’s pale skin in his palms superseded the awkwardness of slipping her jeans off. Fabric bunched around her ankle. His tan fingers gliding over skin as smooth as cream stole his attention. Mid-kiss, Jaime shoved down his jeans. Her thighs brushed his, warm enough to give him chills.</p>
<p>Astride his lap, she curled over him—button shirt draping and blue bra teasing. Her hands curled his white shirt, clearly frustrated they had so many layers between them. </p>
<p>She showed no hesitation when she reached for his cock. Jaime tensed and melted underneath her, holding his breath while she stroked him dangerously close to her inner thigh. Kiss broken, their focus remained on each other—nothing else mattered. </p>
<p>Her moans intensified when he reached forward and returned the favor, circling his thumb, following her cues—her every expression awed him. It was instinctual—no, primal—the way she lifted her seat and mounted him. Holding each other, they both quieted as she sank on top of him. The pleasant pressure of her wrapped around him made him close his eyes. She leaned forward, arms tugging him closer and thighs grinding further. He was speechless, for once, except for the moans escaping his throat.</p>
<p>—— </p>
<p>Brienne was riding Jaime Lannister—she couldn’t believe it. His teeth bit into his bottom lip, his fingers dug into her thighs, and her hands clenched his chest. He fit so perfectly. She enjoyed finding the right rhythm to make him shiver. Just the sight alone brought her closer to finishing.</p>
<p>The theater lights automatically turned off, plunging them into blackness. Once a scary and lonely place, she now felt secure in the theater. Her speed slowed, but his speed increased. </p>
<p>One hand gripped her thigh and his other stroked her—all while he thrust harder. Brienne grew tense and weak at the same time, leaning forward and no longer worrying he couldn’t handle her weight. He handled much more.</p>
<p>They chased release together—Brienne moaning as she tightened around his cock, coming hard with him deep inside her. Not far behind, Jaime came soon after. She felt every pulse and savored every moan of his.</p>
<p>He looked as relieved as her, even in the darkness. She slumped onto him, amazed at his warmth. Only when he looked at her did she remember they were at work. They were idiots, surely, but when she caught a glimpse of his smirk in the shadows, she couldn’t help but smile back.</p>
<p>Instead of fighting, they giggled. Instead of rushing, they lingered.</p>
<p>After dressing, Brienne gave him a hand to help him out of the broken seat. It no longer mattered to her that she would likely lose her job the next day because Jaime’s true affection was worth the risk. If this seat cost her a job, at least she got laid on it. Even if she did lose her job, the organizers and union were only just beginning to fix what was wrong, and the relief of helping others was enough for Brienne. And if she kept her job, her fight against Jaime would change into a fight against greedy cinema management.</p>
<p>He dusted off the front of his buttoned shirt and ran his hand through his hair—more handsome than before.</p>
<p>She turned to walk out until she heard, “Brienne.”</p>
<p>Brienne faced him.</p>
<p>He stood next to the seat, now halfway upright. Her jaw opened. The seat worked. “How…” she started.</p>
<p>Jaime smirked. “I told you I could fix it.” The chair fit perfectly in line with the others, as if it hadn’t been a nuisance all day.</p>
<p>In truth, she did all the work. This would be the first of many pleasant arguments to come. Brienne smirked back.</p>
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